Broken Records
by Emo Bangs
Summary: Maybe I'm a masochist. I try to run but I don't want to ever leave. Kames.


**Rating: Light R, for a few swear words and vague sexual situations****  
****Notes: So I love angst. That is no surprise. But I wanted to write a Kames fic that focused on a less than happy relationship of theirs. Because I feel like there aren't enough of those. Anyways, this is the result of that and listening to Love the way you lie way too much. That's where the summary and title is from.**

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"We were happy," he spoke softly, voice holding a sad reminiscence that told more of a story than any words ever could. The tears welling up in his eyes trickled down his cheeks each time he blinked. A few rolled when he closed his eyes, stifling a sob deep in his chest. "What the hell happened?"

"You think I know?" the words were harsh, snapped, in a way that shouldn't be exchanged between significant others. Their communication was supposed to be sweet happy words with the occasional disagreements, not _vicious. _That tone was reserved for bickering siblings, fighting spouses...not those who were young and in love. Neither boy knew where the hell things started going so downhill.

"I just figured since you threw the first punch..." James trailed off, realizing just how terrible that would sound without having to say it aloud. He mentally cringed, waiting for the explosion to follow this unintentional accusation.

"So you think this is all my fault?" Kendall questioned, outrage clearly etched on his face. If he noticed the soft wince to contort James' face, he didn't seem to care.

"That's not what I said," the pretty boy whispered meekly. He stared at his feet, refusing to meet Kendall's angry gaze. Nothing good would come of it. Sure, he hated their fights. They occurred far too frequent and they left him aching, heartbroken. But the most ironic thing, was that the very person who could comfort him, the only person he found true solace in, was the one who'd caused all this pain to begin with. James knew that if he looked up and met Kendall's green eyes, all he would see would be a flash of memories of happy times; looking into those same eyes and seeing love and devotion instead of hate and anger. He would cave in an instance and he wasn't about to lose yet another fight, even if he thought it was stupid to begin with.

And what followed was the explosion he'd been fearing. The same explosion that would spew hateful words at him that would hurt worse than _any _physical pain. James wondered if this pain tolerance was inherent in him. He wondered if he truly didn't mind all this pain because at least with the pain, he was feeling something. Pain was better than feeling nothing at all.

"You know that's what I fucking hate about you!" Kendall yelled, taking a few steps forward until he was right in front of his boyfriend. He gripped his chin and forced his gaze up, watching as tears rolled down the other's soft, rosy cheeks. What scared him the most was how little he cared. He was James' boyfriend, his protector. He was supposed to protect him from people who were going to hurt him. How was he to know that person would end up being him? How was he supposed to protect his boyfriend from him? But he didn't stop. Because the anger in his blood was boiling now, driving these hateful words that he didn't really want to say. That's what their relationship dwindled down to. "Everyone else is to blame! It's not James' fault! He didn't do a thing! He never does a damn thing!"

James' throat tightened with the effort to subdue his tears. That was a wasted effort because he could feel the warm tears sliding down his cheeks, a display of just how deeply these words affected him. "That's what I hate about you!" he spat right back, swatting Kendall's hand from his face. "You always take the words right out of my mouth and twist them to fit whatever fucking fantasy you have in your head!"

"Yeah, you're right," Kendall agreed, voice dripping with sarcasm. "I _want _you to be so fucking selfish, so fucking pretentious that you can't even take the blame for anything! You're right; that's just so fucking interesting that I imagine it!"

"That's it," James muttered, shaking his head and throwing his hands up in the air. "I'm done!"

And just as James was about to walk away, step out of the vicious, never ending cycle, Kendall reached forward and gripped his wrist, murmuring a soft, knowing, "No you're not," in his ear.

James felt a shudder run down his spine and he knew, he knew damn well that he could shake Kendall's grip on him, both physical and emotional, and leave, never to look back. He knew he had the option and the ability to leave Kendall. But something kept him around every time. It was the calm after the storm that gave him hope that things would change, that things would go back to how they were before. Though it never wanted to admit it, he knew that would never happen. They were already in too deep; too many hateful words had been exchange to ever go back to how things were. They'd never be the same, ever again.

"I know," he whimpered, soft brown eyes slipping shut, desperately to hide his twisted devotion.

Kendall's hands dropped to his hips, sharply spinning him around before crushing their lips together in a rough kiss. It was unyielding, on both parts, neither boy holding anything back. It was heated and hateful, leading them straight to their bedroom. Where passion and love once fueled their actions, hate and viciousness took its place. And when Kendall threw him down on the bed, taking him hard and fast, James couldn't find a single thing in the world more messed up than the fact that he willingly partook in this daily ritual of pain and hate.

The bright LA sun broke through the curtains, illuminating the room in an ironically cheerful light. It ghosted over the two separate bodies, each curled up on the opposite side of the bed. It caused them to stir, slowly waking from their slumber. Sitting up and glancing at each other, neither boy said a single word.

The mornings after were the worst. They were always calm and serene, like all the words from the previous night were never uttered. It gave James false hope and he hated that he believed it every time. Every morning he waited for Kendall to roll over and kiss his cheek, telling him how much he loved him. But he knew that would never happen. The only thing he did know was that they would have another fight that night and he would, for some reason, in a weird, twisted way, love every second of it.


End file.
